


A Place to Rest

by generalsleepy



Series: Tumblr POTO Prompts [8]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsleepy/pseuds/generalsleepy
Summary: One of two fills for the prompt "After the Final Lair or the torture chamber, Raoul has nightmares." The other is "(In)tolerable."





	A Place to Rest

**Author's Note:**

> One of two fills for the prompt "After the Final Lair or the torture chamber, Raoul has nightmares." The other is "(In)tolerable."

Christine woke up curled on her sofa with sunlight filtering through the drapes. She blinked and stretched. It took a moment for her to realize why something felt off — she was alone. 

She clumsily propped herself up on her elbows and looked blearily around the room. There was no trace of the man in whose arms she had fallen asleep. 

It was normal for Raoul to come to her rooms when they both were free, with that Sunday afternoon being one such opportunity. They would talk, play cards, read, and just enjoy each others company. Often, they would end up napping for an hour or two on Christine’s couch. Christine didn’t think that she’d ever felt happier in her life than when she was waking up beside Raoul. He was warm and soft and steady and the smile on his face when he saw her made Christine feel like a new sun was shining in her chest. She couldn’t help but kiss that wonderful smile.

(Of course, Raoul wouldn’t do anything more than cuddle chastely on her couch. He was too good and innocent and pious to consider even going to the bedroom. Christine loved him desperately for it, but that was just one more reason that the twenty-four weeks and six days left of their mandated eight month engagement felt like an eternity.)

She was surprised to wake to find him neither beside her nor nearby. 

Logically, she  _ knew _ that there was no reason to suspect that anything was wrong just because she didn’t see him the moment she woke up, but she couldn’t help but feel a squirm of worry. It was natural, she supposed, that the two of them would be more nervous at any separation than most couples were. Christine would be happy when this damnably prolonged engagement was over, and she and Raoul would have at least the emotional security of being man and wife.

She righted her skirts as she sat up. “Raoul?” she called out around a yawn. She got no response; that made her frown. She got to her feet. “Raoul, are you alright?” She chided herself for being ridiculous as she walked to the door. There was no reason for her to jump to considering that anything might be wrong. 

If Raoul weren’t in the sitting room, the next most likely place she would find him would be in the kitchen. There was a window seat where he liked to sit and read or just bask in the sunlight. (Like a happy, lazy cat, she often found herself thinking, the image always bringing a smile to her face). 

To her relief, that was exactly where she found him. He was wearing his shirt and waistcoat, as he had been when they’d fallen asleep. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and he was staring out the window. 

He didn’t seem to notice her presence until she gave a little cough. He started before turning to look at her. “Oh, hello, darling.” His smile seemed slightly forced, in a way that concerned Christine.

“Hello. I was just wondering where you were.”

“I’m sorry if I worried you,” he responded, looking sincerely apologetic. 

She shook her head. “No, I was just curious.” She joined him in the window seat, so that they were facing each other, in the same pose, their sock-clad toes just touching. “What brought you out here?”

“I just woke up, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Raoul was an awful liar. He’d been since they were children. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes when he did, and he twisted his lip just slightly in a particular way. She wasn’t going to accuse him of lying, though. “What woke you up?”

“I don’t know.” Raoul gripped his legs a little tighter at that, somehow doing even worse at hiding his nerves. 

She touched his knee gently. “Is everything alright, Raoul?”

“I…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” 

“It’s… I just had a nightmare.” He shook his head. “It’s silly. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It’s only that I woke with a fright, and I worried that I might have disturbed you.”

She moved her hand to cover one of his and tried to meet his eyes. “What kind of nightmare?”

“The same as the others,” he mumbled distractedly. He winced as he suddenly realized what he’d said.

“You’ve been having a lot of them?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

She eased the hand off of his leg and held it. “Raoul, you don’t have to tell me, but… I think it might help.” 

He bit his lip, and she was reassured when he gave her hand a little squeeze. “I’ve just been remembering… the opera house... “ He shook his head again, soft blond hair falling into his face. “I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. “Oh, Raoul.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, obviously thinking that his worrying Christine was worse than anything he might be feeling.

“No, it’s alright. I understand.” She paused and then reached for his other hand. “I have nightmares about it sometimes too.”

“But you have a right to! What happened to you was awful. What happened to me was my own stupid fault. It was because I didn’t think, and I only got you in more trouble. Compared to what you had to cope with, over all those months, what happened to me was nothing. I’m just being ridiculous. I’m sorry.”

“Raoul...” She wasn’t sure what she could say. She raised his hands to her lips and kissed them. 

“I’m sorry.” He was looking deliberately away, and Christine thought that she could see tears shimmering in his eyes.

“There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” She hesitated, then carefully moved to her knees and pulled him into a gentle hug. He tensed slightly, but didn’t pull away. “What happened to you wasn’t nothing. And, it wasn’t your fault. What happened down there was  _ his _ fault and no one else’s. He wanted us to believe that we brought it all on ourselves, but we didn’t. I need to to know that you understand that.”

He nodded against her shoulder. The fact that he didn’t just force himself to immediately parrot an agreement made her hope her reassurances were at least somewhat sinking in.

She moved back so that she could look him in the eye. She put a hand on his cheek to steady him. “We both went through hell. Neither of us more or less than the other.

It was suddenly difficult to speak, as her mind drifted back to that horrible night in the cellar. She remembered Raoul’s face flushed dark red, the panic in his eyes, the way his fingers had scrabbled at the noose cutting into his flesh, the way that he had fallen limp to the ground. She remembered the moment the Phantom had held the candle up to Raoul’s face, and she’d had no idea whether he was going to free or kill or maim him. She’d known that the Phantom was capable of anything. 

She remembered how Raoul had begged her to let him die that terrible death, because he would rather suffer anything than see her lose her freedom. She considered how many men there could be who would do the same. They had to be one in a million.

“I love you more than anything, Raoul. I don’t ever want you to believe that you aren’t brave and kind and that you matter.” 

“I love you, too, Christine,” he said. 

She pulled him into a tight hug, and was happy when he hugged her back. “You're going to be my husband. You can tell me anything. Always.”

“Thank you.” 

When he pulled away, Raoul's eyes were still wet, but he was smiling. He stroked her hair, currently a wild mass of tangled curls. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. They cuddled closer together, Christine's hand finding its way to Raoul's hair, as soft and silky as always. The image of lazing came to her mind again. 

Raoul broke the kiss to nuzzle her forehead. “Thank you,” he repeated, a warm breath against her lips.

Grinning, she found his hands and pulled them to her lips. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Raoul nodded gratefully. “That sounds wonderful.” He looked down and then laughed. “I suppose we should probably clean up a bit.”

“What?” Christine fluffed her tangled hair. “You don’t think we look ready for a royal ball?”

“You look perfect,” Raoul said, with utter sincerity. She could almost roll her eyes; he would always think she looked perfect, no matter how much of a mess she was.

She swung her legs over the edge of the seat and stood. “And you’re perfect yourself, but let’s see if we can’t improve on perfection.”

Raoul was smiling as she led him out of the kitchen and back towards her bedroom. She knew that those few words hadn’t really solved anything. If his nightmares were anything like hers, she knew the toll that they were taking on him. It would take a long time for them to find some peace with their memories. Probably they would never be exactly the same people as they had been that horrible night.

But, at least now they were together. Together, they’d survived before, and they were going to survive now.

First, though, they would comb their hair and go walk in the sunlight. For now, that was enough.


End file.
